


Only Winning Move...

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2018 [12]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Post-Undertale Neutral Route - Neutral Pacifist Ending, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: When the human was ready, they would come. That was what they had agreed. So the king waited. And waited. And waited.Until finally, a visitor came, though not who he was expecting.





	Only Winning Move...

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Frisk decides to stay in the underground and not go to the barrier

He could still remember the day the wind began. The day the spell was cast and the howling rush of air pledged to never fade. For the longest time it was a taunt about the failure of monsters to thrive. But like most painful experiences the sharpness of those feelings dulled with time, and he never picked up on how it had become indifference, and even comforting in a twisted way. Watching the ensorcelled light show that accompanied it was similarly an old foe turned friend. Despite how bright the barrier was, when Asgore closed his eyes the howling wind always put him in mind of a dark void, where light could not even exist, as though his eyelids were ten times thicker. But he wasn't there to dwell on this today. Indeed, the illusion was disrupted by a new sound. Footsteps barely heard above the wind. Knowing he was no longer alone – at least in the physical sense – he opened his eyes, but did not turn to face his guest, studying the shimmering light with the attitude of a museum curator, heart growing ever heavier.

"This... is the barrier," he said. "This is what keeps us all trapped underground."

And now he turned to face his guest for the second time. Their face was burning itself into his memory, the ninth such face to do so, and regardless of the outcome of this meeting he knew it would never fade. They were not the smallest human to meet him here, but there wasn't much of a difference. A bandage still stuck to their cheek, dutifully absorbing the trials and tribulations of their journey in its grimy appearance. They continued to clutch a stick, barely larger than a twig, which itself was holding onto its final leaf, determined not to let go.

"If... if by any chance you have any unfinished business... please do what you must."

There was no fear in their face. There was only sadness. But not sadness aimed at themselves, self-pity for the terrible predicament they'd found themselves in when they fell beneath the mountain. Asgore didn't know if that made things worse. After the longest time, they took a step back, head turning towards the corridor they had come from. It was enough for him to understand, so he nodded gravely.

"I see. Anything you want to do is important enough. Even something as small as reading a book, or taking a walk..." He returned to watching the barrier. "Please take your time. I shall be here."

He didn't hear exactly what they said, or if they had said anything specific, but its tone was agreement. The pact was sealed. His ears caught their tiny footsteps for a few moments, but they faded and were quickly drowned out by the howling wind. He stood by the barrier, waiting. When the human was ready, they would come.

* * *

"Dum dee dum..."

He stood in the throne room, watering the flowers. Golly, they sure were thirsty this time of year. Even as part of him reproached his decision, he figured it wasn't too bad to leave the barrier. The throne room was on the way to it. When the human was ready, they would come.

* * *

"My, the water is warm today..."

He stood by his sink. There weren't many plates to wash, but there were a dozen stacks of six or seven cups. Visitors always needing a nice cup of tea to talk their problems over with. He couldn't believe he'd left it so long between washing them. A royal guardsman stood by the throne room, to tell anyone where he was. When the human was ready, they would come.

* * *

"Have you tried adjusting the snow tax?"

He stood in a disused council hall, receipts and records in hand as his bespectacled eyes tried to make the numbers match up. The finance minister had dragged him to New Home City Hall, ever concerned about the deficit the war was provoking. Even though such concerns had been long neglected and authority to summon the King had atrophied, it would be rude to decline. The problem was spotted before too long: The contractors were charging more than had been budgeted for, and nobody had caught it. Everyone in the Underground knew where he was as he resolved the issue. When the human was ready, they would come.

* * *

"Dum dee dum..."

He stood in the throne room, watering the flowers. They'd been drooping of late, as though sensing what impact the earlier encounter left on the castle, an impact undetectable in the relaxing tune the king hummed. Still, the frail state of the garden's inhabitants this close to winter concerned him, as the few stray beams of sunlight would be ever more fleeting. He'd have to travel to Waterfall and ask about stockpiling fertilizer to keep them going until spring. He shouldn't be too long. When the human was ready, they'd-

The last flower, somewhat apart from its brethren, twitched as water sprinkled it. And then it slowly turned around. It had a face. A face that better reflected the aftermath of the human's visit than Asgore did.

"Oh!" The surprise of a flower with a face was nothing to the embarrassment of intruding on personal space. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to be so presumptuous about whether you wished to be watered."

The flower did not look like it accepted his apologies. "I don't understand..."

The distress in the voice banished any qualms Asgore had about the situation. "What is wrong?"

"I had it all worked out," the flower said, "I had it planned, even if I couldn't change anything anymore, it was obvious they'd... What are they doing?!"

"Erm, is everything alright, little one?"

The last two words set him off. Uncertainty and anxiety gave way to well-worn frustration. "There's a human in your kingdom, you idiot, and you're standing here watering flowers?!"

Asgore failed to catch the problem. "The human knows that I am waiting on them to conclude their business. When that happens-"

"It _won't_. They're not coming back. Ever. They're not gonna fight you. Why does it always take weeks for you to figure anything out?!"

Asgore's concern remained focused on the distress the flower was in, and not the disrespect he'd been shown. "Um... Mister Flower... Do you have a name?"

"...Flowey."

"'Flowey'... Hmm. That is a good name for one such as you. If I may, how do you know what they plan to do?"

The raw anger was held in check by impatience. "I followed them. All the way through the Underground. 'til they got here. And then when they left again. They're in Snowdin right now, first house on the right heading from Waterfall. So go get them!"

Asgore did not go and get them. "...how do you know they intend to stay there?"

"I saw the Smiley Trashbag and Papyrus move a bed in. Do you get somebody to do that for you if you're just passing through?"

He stroked his beard. "Hmm, I suppose not."

"Then a threat to every monster in the Underground is sitting around! Hell, even tour Captain of the Royal Guard visits them! And you wouldn't believe who also turned up yesterday-"

"Flowey." Asgore's tone was soft. "I thank you for your concerns. But I gave my word to wait until they are ready."

"They'll _never_ be ready. Don't you get it? What good's your word when they could be holding a knife to her throat?!"

Who did he mean by her? Asgore tried to explain his position further rather than dwell on it. "I have spoken to Undyne a few times since I met the human. She reports no trouble. No violence whatsoever. The only injury of note is young Snowdrake stubbing his toe."

His golden petals rustled silently as his head bobbed back and forth in agitation. "I don't believe this. Are you or are you _not_ at war? Did you or did you _not_ decree that all humans who fall into the kingdom must die?"

"Well, yes," he sounded more embarrassed than anything, "but there was never a strict time limit on that-"

" **ARRRRGH!** I'M SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS!" A vine sprang up and slapped Asgore across the face. "It wasn't supposed to be like this! The human would face you in the barrier. You'd pop out the souls and while you fought I'd-" He forced himself to stop.

"You'd what? Restrain the human for me?" Flowey remained silent, furious with himself. "Again, I must thank you for telling me this. I suppose it is important to know what is going on. Would you like a cup of tea? I find that lifts my spirits when I am troubled."

"I don't eat, dummy, do you give that flower over there pie?"

"My goodness, how foolish of me, I'm presuming again. Is, um, is there anything I can give you?"

He looked up at Asgore. The anger was gone, replaced with a desperate hunger. Caution was thrown to the wind. "The souls."

"The souls?" repeated Asgore. "I'm sorry, I cannot-"

"If you're so big a coward you won't deal with an active threat, give them to me. Or even just one! I'll take care of the human for you. Might even break the barrier for ya if you ask nicely."

"No, Flowey." He sounded stern for the first time, turning away from him. "It is my responsibility alone."

"Well, I think you should give him the souls, Gorey."

Ice flooded every part of Asgore's body. That voice. It was impossible. He delayed the moment of dispelling the illusion for as long as he could, but curiosity finally steered his muzzle in the direction of the voice. As he both feared and hoped, she wasn't there. There was only Flowey.

"He's only looking out for the Kingdom, Asgore," said Toriel's voice from Flowey's mouth, "why not let him help you?"

"Wh... what is this?!"

"Exactly what it looks like, Fluffybuns. NYEH, YOU ARE A NINCOMPOOP IF YOU DO NOT LET THIS FLOWER ASSIST YOU! heh, figured a king would be more than a big fat stupid goat. NGAH, just let him take a soul to kill the human, punk! I c-c-calculate the barrier will be b-broken approximately twenty-three point seven minutes after you g-give him what he wants. And it will look absolutely fabulous, darling!"

With every new voice, Flowey's expression shifted. Though still unmistakably him, the attitude he radiated only enhanced the already flawless impression of the speaker. Asgore took a step back with every impersonation, utterly bewildered. Ineffable instinct warned him to brace for more, especially for one he'd been thinking of since Flowey revealed himself, without consciously knowing why. But for whatever reason, Flowey never delivered that blow.

"You've heard your subjects," said Flowey's original voice, "so why not give them what they want?"

The fear of that final voice formed an uneasy alliance with Flowey's question, and the coalition quickly expanded as what Flowey told him earlier joined forces. If it had been anyone else asking him ten minutes before, he could not have answered. But this league found him equal to the task.

"Because... It's not what _he_ would want."

All emotion was wiped from the simple face. "...what."

"I... my son. I declared this war when he died. And... I've regretted it ever since. Every day I wish I could..." Why he was confiding feelings he'd forbidden himself to express long ago in this erstwhile tormentor, he did not know, or even worry about. "So much pain and misery in his name, in the name of hope. Hope he'd never have recognized. Hope that drove his Mother to despair. But to shatter that hope was equally intolerable. And now, you tell me a human has fallen and caused no trouble? Has befriended monsters? Befriended Undyne of all people? Golly, that alone is the sign of a good heart. Maybe... the hope they once gave us was the true hope." Who 'they' were remained unspoken, though both knew. "It sounds like the mood of the people is shifting. That a new path- No, an old path- has opened up. Perhaps I should end- _HURK!_ "

"You. Know. **NOTHING.** About what he wants!"

The taunt made no sense to Asgore, but it wasn't the most pressing issue. That would be the vines around his throat, squeezing ever tighter. His arms were seized by other vines, leaving him unable to pull at them. With a strength one would not have allowed for a flower, Asgore felt his feet leave the ground, his own bodyweight now an accomplice to the strangulation.

"I'm sick of this! I'm sick of everything! Just give me the souls and you can live, are we really back to doing this again?"

Again? "Souls- sealed- I die- no access-"

"Well you'd be surprised at what you can live through. And I do mean you, Asgore, I should know!"

"What- will- do with them?"

"I don't even know yet. Anything. Something! More than you ever did! I just want something different!"

An impulse in Asgore's suffocating brain warned him not to beg. "Let- me- help- you-"

The vines tightened even further. "I did! And you didn't!"

It continued to make no sense. As did a new feeling of guilt. "Then- do it- I'll see him- Say sorry-"

"You'll see him?!" There was a hollow cackle. "Wherever you end up, I doubt he's there. If there's any justice in this universe, you'll be just as alone there as you are now! As I am..."

Words were having a hard time reaching Asgore now. The confusion bestowed on him by his visitor, the new guilt mixing with the old, the irrepressible struggle for life, it all mixed in his mind as it began to shut down, as he looked down at his assailant and his desperate longing fed him a delusion.

"...I'm... sorry... Asriel..."

"Huh?!"

The possibility that he'd been unmasked struck Flowey, and one of the vines loosened in his confusion. Even in Asgore's addled state, it was enough for his combat instincts. Before Flowey could realise his mistake, a large hand seized the slackened vine and engulfed it in flame. Flowey screeched in pain and by reflex withdrew all his vines. Asgore fell to his knees with a hefty thud, but allowed himself only a moment to take a breath before summoning a wall of fire to stop the advancing vines again. Getting to his feet, he saw the attacks stop. Flowey had seemed to realise the moment was lost, and began to sink among the other flowers. Asgore grasped this intent to flee, and a red trident flashed into existence, plunging into the flower bed and twirling furiously, soil and petals of various colours flying everywhere. Withdrawing it, Asgore found his quarry, tangled like spaghetti and totally uprooted. With a metallic clink, he thrust the trident against the wall, planting it firmly so it would not fall away. His captive started squirming, so Asgore's eye flashed sky blue, and his trident followed the example. Flowey grunted in pain when he touched the trident itself, and his escape was thwarted.

"Do it!" shrieked Flowey, throwing Asgore's words back at him. "I'm tired anyway. There's nothing left for me here!"

Asgore didn't oblige the request. Instead he let go of the trident, though it remained where it was. Looking back at the mess he caused, he went straight for some of the victims, flowers also uprooted in the failed flight from the throne room. He gathered them up, retrieved a nearby trowel, and repaired the bed as best he could before replanting them one by one. His prisoner watched all of this for fifteen minutes, and when Asgore returned to face him, incredulity was manifest within a crown of golden petals.

"This is why she left, you know," he spat, "your priorities are pathetic. But welp, here we are. You gonna put me out of my misery?"

The barb had surprisingly little effect. The trident vanished, and Flowey fell to the stone floor, still a knot of roots and stem. Said roots automatically tried to find purchase between the stone, but no soil could be reached.

"What, you psyching yourself up for it? Not the first time I know, but you know how this goes in the end, old man. Do it!"

"...no, Flowey."

He looked to be on the verge of a tantrum. "If you don't... I'll kill you. I'll kill everyone you-"

"You had your chance, and you failed. I am returning the favour. I will not kill you."

Flowey looked up, enraged. Asgore readied himself for more vines. But then the rage melted away. He curled up on the stones, almost like he was withering. And then he started to cry. A vague sense of de ja vu struck Asgore at this.

"Curious. I've never seen a flower cry before."

"I... tired... just want..."

"What do you want, Flowey?"

Question met question. "Why couldn't you idiots follow the plan? I can't even go back anymore, not while they're here. With the souls, maybe I could- I mean maybe finally I'd..."

He gave up trying to verbalise his troubles, curling even tighter and sobbing. Asgore felt no anger at his would-be murderer. Only pity. And perhaps sorrow.

"Flowey... child..." once again, this odd form of address went unexamined. "Why don't you tell me what is wrong?"

"...told you. I already did. And you were useless..."

Asgore racked his brains while massaging his tender throat. "You shall have to forgive me, Flowey, but I cannot recall you ever telling me."

"I know you can't. But there's no point in telling you again. Nothing's changed."

"Really? Was it before the human came that you told me? Did you tell me after they arrived?"

"...no."

"Well that has changed, hasn't it?" He sat cross-legged on the floor before Flowey. "You are in deep pain, little one. You may not even be able to feel it properly. But I recognise that pain. I feel it too. I daresay you've been feeling it as long as I have. Perhaps instead of putting us out of our misery, we can climb above it together? Maybe we can help each other."

The golden petals crept out from the tangle of stem and vine. A furious debate was going on in Flowey's head, and a glint in his beady black eyes against triggered yet more murky familiarity in Asgore, but he focused on the problem at hand. Perhaps he could be more than a destroyer this day. If Flowey trusted him, they could build something up.

"Well..."

**Author's Note:**

> Pastebin version: https://pastebin.com/jgRdrn8g
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
